


Be With Me

by RedFlagsAndDiamonds



Series: "Life of the House" One-Shots [3]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Abandonment, Adultery, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Betrayal, Break Up, Cheating, Declarations Of Love, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, House Party, Infidelity, Lifestyle Porn, Luxury, M/M, Marriage, Morning After
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 03:58:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13356027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedFlagsAndDiamonds/pseuds/RedFlagsAndDiamonds
Summary: Pepper witnesses an intimate moment between Peter and Tony, which proves to be the last straw.





	Be With Me

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Private Affair](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11813937) by [DaScribbla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaScribbla/pseuds/DaScribbla). 



> As before, set in DaScribbla's "Private and Intimate Life of the House" universe, and directly inspired by a moment from "Casino Royale."
> 
> I hope this banishes any doubts from a certain individual, that this series does indeed involve "starker."

 

 _"I'm an old man in an empty place. Be with me." -_ James Goldman,  _The Lion in Winter_

 

* * *

 

 

With his customary “generosity,” Tony had not only funded Peter Parker’s entire undergraduate program of studies at MIT, but also the cost of housing, storage for that ridiculous blue Camaro, and everything in between, from textbooks to a three thousand dollar latte machine.

Tony had insisted on a send-off party (no paparazzi permitted) and by the night of August third, the entertaining deck of the penthouse was over-run by several chart-toppers, Ron Ben-Israel’s catering team, and however many of Peter’s little high school friends they had been able to cram into the over ostentatious party bus that Tony had purchased for the occasion.

He was probably with them now, his shades flashing in the multicolored strobe lights, and trying to pretend he was thirty years younger. Envying their prospects, their possibilities. All too aware of his own mortality – that the days behind him outnumbered those ahead.

Mrs. Stark was pointedly absent from the proceedings, barricading herself inside her private suite – long since separated from her husband’s bedroom, after finding a pair of plaid boxers under the sheets for the final time – and in the company of an entire cellar’s worth of Bacardi.

Mr. Stark had offered no objection.

The ceiling throbbed with the rhythm of the baseline several floors above, and with a frustrated swig of rum, she dialed up the volume of the film unfolding on the plasma screen. Something by Jane Austen, recommended by Happy. She’d forgotten the title about half a bottle ago.

A rather lined-faced heroine had only just discovered that her long-lost fiancé had spurned a teenaged, sex-eager virgin with an adorable squint to accept her back. He’d never stopped loving her, apparently.

Pepper mused, with the sort of careful deliberation that only comes from over indulging in alcohol, that Janey obviously had possessed a flawless understanding of the sort of fairy tales that fading beauties desperately needed to believe in. Maybe her own lover had left her for a bendy little piece of fresh meat.

The sound of the smash took several seconds too long to actually reach her ears, after she hurled the tumbler at the screen. Disappointingly, she felt no better afterward.

 

*

 

The party deck was in shambles, and Pepper made an overcautious attempt to wend her way around the piles of broken glass and spilled food. A three foot tall jet black cake stood forgotten in the corner, a ruby red drizzle trickling down the many tiers like spilled blood. Someone had torn a chunk out of the side with their fingers.

Somehow it was that brief, hazy glimpse of nail marks in satin-smooth icing that sent her memory hurtling back to their shared youth, the raucous parties Tony had thrown in Las Vegas, Dubai, Macau.

The mornings afterward hadn’t been too different, empty bottles of champagne scattered over upturned furniture, beautiful, half-dressed bodies sprawled unconscious and entwined on every available soft surface.

Clearly that particular vice had been reserved for the after party, when all the guests had slipped off to hotels or their little twin beds at home, leaving the host and guest of honor to take matters into their own hands. Literally.

Sunlight drenched her body as the skylight doors opened at the touch of a concealed button and the staircase unfolded, allowing her to climb up to the rooftop terrace.

Pepper had known all too well what she was signing up for when she put her name to the marriage license, and “it” had only doubled when the baby came. The early hours just after dawn became her fleeting moments of peace and freedom, when the tower was still asleep and the city began to pulse and tremble, not knowing and not caring that she lay in the sunlight above them, her mind quiet and for once, thinking of nothing.

She padded barefoot onto the roof, and halted abruptly, eight yards away from the twin chaises at the building’s edge.

“…at’s not what I’m saying.” Peter was muttering as he lounged on one of the couches, an arm thrown across his face to shield his eyes from the sun. A royal blue, silk button-down hung loosely on his frame, and thick purple bruises stood out on his bare thighs. He looked like he’d been ravaged.

Tony sat at the end of the chaise, sipping a glass of mango juice and watching Peter with an expression that Pepper could almost remember.

“It’s the way that you shut me out, and I’m not sure of you anymore. When I leave you’ll put your armor on, and I won’t get back in, because you don’t want me to see you as human.”

Something unshuttered in Tony’s face, and setting the glass down, he braced both hands on the couch, framing Peter’s slender body and leaning over him.

“Armor’s no good against you. You were always so resilient, so little… you could wriggle your way in through the cracks and find the softest spot. What chance did I have?”

Pepper felt herself trembling, but didn’t dare move.

“You’ll wake up one day, and find something far better than anything I could offer, but –“ he brushed a fingertip across Peter’s lips, as the boy scrunched up his face, ready to protest.

“-but as long as you’ll have me… whatever scraps of me are left… they’re all yours.”

All was silent for a moment, until Peter surged up with a whimper and began kissing Tony frantically, as if he had no time left.

Neither had noticed Pepper arrive, and neither saw her slip silently back down the staircase.

 

*

 

She thought about staging an ugly, messy scene, giving every tabloid in the world exactly what they might have hoped for; her husband standing shell-shocked by the car, pretending everything was normal for Maria’s sake as she watched from her car seat inside the limo. Pepper would scream profanities, hurl rocks from the driveway at Peter while he huddled tearfully behind Tony’s back, expose every dirty secret she had kept for the last three years.

Instead, she packed her own bags without waking Kirsten, and sent them down to a taxi waiting at the curb.

Happy clutched her shoulder with a single, reassuring nod as she paused in front of the revolving door, Maria limp and sleeping in her arms, before walking outside and climbing into the cab.

They had been on the road for three hours before the first of ten consecutive messages began lighting up her phone, Tony’s face clearly shown by the caller ID. Each one went unopened.

When they crossed the Long Island Bridge, the window rolled down and the phone was flung out and over the choppy water.

Pepper hadn’t known real peace in several years. Now was as good a time as any to relearn it’s meaning.


End file.
